


Trust

by TWE



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Bottom Hotch, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWE/pseuds/TWE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My life matters to me. And I have and always will entrust you with it. Would you do the same for me?</p><p>Derek Finds Hotch working late and decides it's time for his boss and friend to spill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Been rewatching episodes while I've been sick. Took me three days to try and write this. This is a gift for someone who doesn't even know I've written this yet. It hasn't been beta read, and it hasn't been translated into english from sick TWE just yet. But it demanded to be written and as such it was.

Just like he’d done every night for a year since his wife’s death, Aaron Hotchner was working late. Long after all the lights had died in the rest of the building, behind the closed door to his office the light on Hotch’s desk illuminated the ever constant pile of paperwork.

 

There’s not even a yawn now as the circles darken under his eyes and his blinks become slower. But he can’t sleep, he won’t. Because every time he is reminded of the one thing, though terrible it was, that he always wanted. A family. A wife. Her.

 

His hand cramped, and his eyes creased as he stared at the offending fingers before shaking it, pen still held between the digits, to shake the cramp free. He was so zoned out in the work and pain that he almost missed the soft knock against his open door.

 

“Hotch?” Morgan asked, leaning heavily on the door frame. “It’s 3am. Go home.”

 

 _Home_. That word almost made him sick now.

 

“I just have three more files. You should go,” Hotch replied in a tone that spoke volumes to the younger profiler. _I am going to work here all night. I don’t have anywhere to go home to._

 

“Talk to me,” Morgan moved from the door frame to the seat opposite his boss, leaning back and showing ease while still considering the other man. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

 

Putting the pen down, Hotch leaned forward and folded his hands together, considering his answer as he procrastinated with deliberate posturing. He hadn’t even noticed that his subordinate had used the word pretty until it was too late to call comment on it. Dark eyes took in the other man quietly, though Hotch inwardly shook away his thoughts.

 

“You’ve been out of it since Hayley…” Morgan wasn’t sure if he should say her name, but there was no other way of getting him to talk. Morgan watched as the usually stiff shoulders folded and his head drop.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“She was cheating on me. I found out afterwards. And part of me thought perhaps….I could have done something more,” Hotch was as surprised as Morgan that he was talking with such ease without copious amounts of alcohol. His heavy heart was obviously needing to unburden itself, no matter who came. And now that someone had…

 

“I’m sorry man. I know that can be harsh,” Morgan replied with low seriousness. His head dropped down, words from not so long ago echoing in his mind.

 

_My life matters to me. And I have and always will entrust you with it. Would you do the same for me?_

 

Derek flicked his dark eyes up again, noting that Hotch had leaned back in his chair, stretching out his overworked muscles. He’d stayed silent when he’d asked, but the answer was yes. And perhaps it was time to start showing it.

 

“I got a similar problem…” Morgan began, waiting for Hotch to show he was listening just a little before continuing. “See…there’s this person I like,” he started, leaning forward a little, elbows to his knees.

 

“Only they don’t make any time for stuff outside work. And I’m a little worried.”

 

Hotch seemed to take a deep breath, considering again. Choosing his words carefully. When he’d found them, he let them fall before his eyes lifted from the grains of wood on his desk.

 

“Don’t let them slip away like that. They…” Hotch lifted his head, surprised when a hand cupped his cheek and his lips were suddenly taken by larger, warmer, softer ones. Immediately, his body tensed, but his eyes closed. It had been a long time since anyone had kissed him.

 

But this was Derek Morgan. Suave ladies’ man and good friend. How was there a chance that Morgan was talking about him? And then the logical part of his brain kicked in: every chance there was a casual brush. Both to himself and to Reid. He’d used no personal pronouns, nor ever denied that he was interested in men despite his history.

 

And then the kissing. The damned good kissing that was encouraging him now to open his mouth and let the other man in. And Hotch did, shivering and relenting the moment Derek’s tongue found and pressed against his own.

 

Hotch’s hand moved up, touching the darker man’s collar before moving onto the skin of his shoulder and neck. Soon those fingertip touches were a full hand curled around the back of Derek’s head to make the kiss deeper.

 

As Morgan himself felt that response, his own hand pulled open his friend’s tie and popped open the top few buttons only to slide a hand inside that shirt and stroke the muscles just above his boss’ heart. While he thought he would always fail at words with his long-time friend, he knew that actions from him always spoke volumes.

 

The kiss was broken, soft panting filling the small space between their swelling lips.

 

“I want you.”

 

The comment was simple. And echoed in the body of the other.

 

The hand on Hotch’s chest moved then opened the rest of the shirt with the satisfying pop of buttons as they landed around the room. Soon after Morgan had the older man straddled, the kiss beginning again and the moans winding between them.

 

Hotch’s hands were quick to rid his friend of his shirt, then his lips attaching to that skin, causing Morgan to throw his head back. The reciprocation was happening faster than he imagined, and with more enthusiasm. When Hotch rocked up, both of them moaned.

 

The friction between them had always been there, from the very start. Morgan had been afraid of letting someone make him that vulnerable again, and Hotch was married. And now there was a fire lit between them, spurred on by their growing need.

 

The kisses became sloppy, but more passionate as hands roughened by the use of weapons and weight training slid over one another’s bodies; learning the curves and scars and the feel of the heat coursing just underneath both of their skin.

 

It wasn’t until Derek reached between them did either of them come back to reality. They were both hard, panting, groping, touching, doing as much as they could to learn frantically.

 

“How long has it been, Hotch?”

 

“Too long,” Came the desperate reply, hands moving down, raking nails over Morgan’s skin and causing the younger man to gasp. Goosebumps followed down behind those fingertips. Nipples tightened and darkened and everything in that moment just made Morgan want him more.

 

“You need to let go. This isn’t healthy. Let me….let me take over for a while,” Morgan offered, moving from his boss and pulling Hotch to his feet. Somehow while he spoke Hotch had expertly opened his belt buckle and the useless weight of it pulled his jeans lower on his hips.

 

“I don’t know how,” Hotch admonished, watching the way Derek’s chest was heaving under the power of his arousal. The man was built, and in a moment of what Hotch would call insanity he leaned forward and took hold of one of those nipples first under his tongue, then between his teeth and then about his lips, kissing it like it was a long lost lover the same way he loved to be played himself.

 

If the moan above him was any response, deep and guttural, then he knew that his friend liked it too. He was still showing too much control, too much power. He could stop at any time. But he didn’t want to.

 

“Do you have any lotion?” Derek asked, out of the blue, his hands moving around Hotch’s body to try and push his boss’ pants from his hips. Hotch was too thin for his own good, thinner since deciding to work too hard. And the perfectly pressed pants fell, along with the boxers underneath to pull about his ankles.

 

Hotch’s hands had reached for the top drawer of his desk and fumbled for the asked for lotion. There were no need for more words, being turned and pressed into the desk and into the paperwork he’d been working on.

 

Papers flew, and his pens clattered to the floor joining the discarded buttons. His cock dripped at the thought of what might be coming. Lotion. Kissing. Touching….Morgan’s dick which he’d not actually seen yet…it was all too much.

 

“Relax, Hotch. I ain’t gonna do anything you don’t want,” Derek laid a kiss between his shoulders and for a moment Hotch could swear he could feel the younger man smile.

 

“If you’re going to do that,” whatever _that_ actually was, “You should start calling me Aaron.”

 

“Aaron,” Derek repeated as both his hands moved to the other’s ass and spread those cheeks wide. While Aaron was no expert in gay sex, he did know foreplay was important. Foreplay included the use of a lubricant because men didn’t create the same slick inside themselves but how could Derek do this without the use of his hands?

 

His answer came in the form of a long, hot, wet lick from the base of his balls to the tight pucker which was then attacked by a series of grazed teeth and tongue trying to encourage it’s way inside. The more Derek licked, the more the tension released from his own muscles and the more he opened for him.

 

Soon his hands were beside his face at the end of the desk, searching for an anchor in this world while he pushed back against the skilful tongue. A singe wet finger started inside him, then a second, opening him up slowly. Hotch was back being tense, gasping for breath and so on that edge that the barest brush against his prostate was enough for him to stain the underside of his desk.

 

“Derek,” Hotch murmured, and Morgan was not surprised to find that his boss wasn’t a screamer.

 

Yet.

 

Having found his prostate, his large pads still rolled circles over it, giving only the barest hint of relief before taking him again. Hotch was still seeing stars.

 

“You can tell me when to stop. Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

Aaron Hotchner didn’t answer at first, but reached back and took hold of the wrist working inside him only to pull him into his body deeper.

 

“I trust you.”

 

One last curl of his thick fingers inside his boss’ hot body was enough before he pulled them out, earning a gasp from the dark haired man. Trust was a powerful thing, and so was what was happening next.

 

Outside the pop of the cap on his lotion, there was silence. He could hear his heart between his ears and he was hyperaware of his own breathing. But Derek was silent, considering, and slickening his thick cock.

 

Three beats.

 

Four beats.

 

Five.

 

It took almost a lifetime for the press of the head to be felt against his entrance. But the moment it did Hotch’s nails dug themselves into the desk hard enough to splinter. He should have assumed the stereotypes were true about African American men; the feel of it inside him felt thicker than his fingers, but the slide inside drew him to heaven.

 

He was big. And long. And enough to drive the last of the conscious thought from his mind. All there was was the deep heat, the pressure and friction. One large hand stroked up his spine comfortingly, curling around Hotch’s shoulder, the other holding Hotch’s hip as he slowly built up the pace.

 

“Nnnh….yeah, Aaron…..relax…just let me help you…”

 

The touches were exquisite, each movement triggering a tingle underneath his skin. As the tingles built they pooled as heat lower. His cock filled again, and the hand at his hip moved around to stroke the renewing hardness.

 

Aaron was rocking again, letting the younger man bring him into a white haze if thrust and want, of touch and torment. The thumb slipping over the tip and rubbing teasing circles was enough to bring him back to that edge.

 

Derek knew how to use his cock. And while he wasn’t a woman, Aaron was sure as hell going to do the thing close enough to begging that he could do just to have these feelings again. There was no time, no place, no thought; only feeling. And the feelings were being wrapped up into a nice little ball in his belly.

 

Then came the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, and Hotch was beginning to cry out. His body lip, but still demanding as he fucked back onto the cock inside him. Not just screamed, it sang as Derek changed the angle, and made his own strangled sound as he found his lover’s prostate.

 

Fireworks were exploding, and walls were falling down and Hotch was falling quickly with them. The dribble of precome making Morgan’s strokes easier.

 

“Aaron…..I’m….” the force of the words did nothing to hide how far gone the other man was.

 

“I want it…Please….” Came the reply, hitched with his breath. He could already feel his body spasming with his oncoming climax, he just needed to hold on a moment longer to feel the one thing he’d always found the strength to deny. He was always fighting with Haley because of this. He was okay with not going home because of this. He was always unhappy because of this.

 

“Come in me….Derek…..”

 

He didn’t need to ask twice. First they were lips at his shoulders, then they were teeth searching for purchase as he grunted and suddenly there was a completeness he hadn’t felt for a very long time. There was a rush, both of adrenaline and heat as the other man spread inside him, making him was wanted, needed and in some way loved.

 

Morgan jerked once, twice more, emptying into him everything he’d had. And then he sent about making things right with Hotch. There were kisses at his neck, tongue in the bite marks as an apology and hand at his cock stroked slower, but deeper. So deep that Aaron was now breathing in time with them, toes curled over that edge, daring him to fall.

 

The kisses moved up his neck, teeth silently chewing at his ear before licking around the shell.

 

“I want to tell you I love you. But I’m scared. I don’t want this to be a one time thing. Aaron…”

 

There were two puffs of hot breath against his ear before he realised Derek had said words again.

 

“I love you.”

 

He came. Hard. Over his desk and enough to drip on the floor. The room smelled of sex and Derek and he didn’t care. The walls were down and for a moment his lashes were wet with unshed tears.

 

“I can’t say the words back, Derek,” the sigh from Morgan was almost heartbreaking and he wished he hadn’t said the words _quite_ like that.

 

“Not…. _yet._ You’re a good man….One of the finest I have ever known. One who I trust completely.”

 

“But?”

 

“No buts. Well…one. Next time we do this, I take you out to dinner first.”

 

The smirk against his neck was perfect, and followed by the subtle movement of his head, Hotch found himself on the receiving end of a very grateful, very deep kiss.

 

“Next time,” Derek echoed before chuckling. “As long as you’re buying.”


End file.
